Definition of Myself
by TheQuirkyWriter
Summary: USUK Teen romance is so cliché. So is running away, having internal battles about sexuality and religion, and being the charming, mysterious, handsome new kid in school. That's what Alfred was, cliché. Controversial Issues used in this fic. Other pairings
1. Definition of Prologue

**Yo dudes and dudettes! Assuming there are any dudes reading my Fanfiction. I don't judge! Lol. Well here it is! The EXTREMELY short prologue to my second fic! I promise that the next chapter will be longer! At least 1,500 words. But I just want this little thing as the prologue to set up the story. It's in Alfred's point of view. The whole story won't be in first person, but there will be first person narrative's from Alfred. There might be some from some other characters. Like maybe Arthur or Matthew. Anyway, I really wanna know what ya'll think about this as a story. As for the controversial topic? I'm not sure if I should just flat out tell you guys. SO I'll keep it a secret for now to be revealed. But, if I get enough complaints or whatever from people saying they want to know before getting into the story, I'll tell you guys in the next chapter. Anyway, I can tell you some of the other controversial issues, just not the main one. They'll be religion, sexuality, underage drinking, drugs. Shit like that! Ok, anyway. Onto the prologue.**

**I REALLY hope you guys like it! But be warned, for now, this story will be second fiddle to my other story 'Real Life.' But I will be giving this fic attention to. It'll probably be like…. 60% of my focus on finishing 'Real Life' and the 40% of my focus will be on this story.**

**Ok, so I'm done babbling. Enjoy the WAY too short prologue.**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p>Why do people run away from their homes? From family that love them. From a place where they're safe and sheltered.<p>

I never understood.

Until I got older, that's when I learned that some people run away because of abuse or alcoholism or death. Because their family doesn't love them. Because they have no place where they feel safe or sheltered.

But that's not why I'm running away from my family. I love them, I do. And while I don't like my home, I feel safe there.

I'm running away from them because they won't accept me the way I really am, and because I don't want their views, their religion, or lifestyle forced on me. I'm leaving because I can't keep hiding my real feelings, and thoughts, and beliefs.

I need to define things for myself. Like the world, and love, and religion, and sex, and… myself.

I can't stay there anymore.

And I know leaving a family that cares about you, to find an extended family that you only know through letters, a failed lawsuit, and a visit from when you were barely five is… crazy.

But I have to do it.

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><p><strong>Well? Do you guys like it? Is it worth your time to read and my time to write? Next chapter will hopefully be up by next week! And I PROMISE it will be SOOOO much longer! Hey, and if you guys want to try guessing the controversial issue and you get it right, I'll tell you in a PM!<strong>


	2. Definition of Teenagers

**Well, looks like I'm a fibbing Fran! I said it would be next week, but I'm updating on the next day! AH! XD **

**Sorry if your inboxes have been cluttered with 'New Chapter of Definition of Myself' messages. I've been having trouble. The story doesn't show that it's been updated on the just in OR on the Hetalia page, so I've been trying to re-do it, hoping it'd show eventually. So that's why THAT's happening. Technology is soo confusing! **

**Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! I was planning on just saving this for tomorrow, but I was like, screw it, UPDATE! No one's guessed the controversial issue… DX But, I do encourage ya'll to keep guessing! Anyway, onto the chapter! Oh and I know the format is a bit strange, but I felt it was a very creative thing to do for the story and that it adds a lot and makes it stand out. But then again, maybe I'm just pulling shit out of my ass! XP**

**Hope I edited this enough! Because my spelling and grammar check was on the fritz, so everytime I'd use it, it would shut down my word processor. Annoying. So I attemtpted to go through this with a fine tooth comb. Hope I did enough! The first person narrative is once again through Alfred in the beginning.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Definition of Teenagers<strong>

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><p>I haven't really done much in my life. I know that kids my age usually go to parties and date, and have lives apart from their family. But then again, most kids my age were raised in well… I guess some would call it a shut in community.<p>

It also didn't help that everyone in my family has been home schooled since 2000.

But it didn't really matter to me then, because I didn't know what I was missing. Plus I had a LOT of siblings, so we generally kept each other company.

I did have one friend outside my family that I had, despite the fact that I was taken out of school, we managed to keep in contact. Toris.

Although my family didn't approve, they'd let me go over to Toris' house, but he wasn't allowed to come to mine. His parents had a problem with how me and my family lived. I couldn't blame them though, cause I had a problem with it too.

Two years ago though, Toris and his family moved to New York. They said they wished they could've taken me with them, I wished they could've too.

Fortunately I still talk to him through letters. He says New York is amazing and diverse. Toris told me that he wishes I could visit him and meet his friend, Feliks. He says he thinks we'll get along.

But I never thought the day would come that I would be able to see Toris again, until now. Because now, this is the first time I've really ever been outside of my shut in community.

Maybe now I could be like the other teenagers my age!

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><p>"So Saturday night, Gil, told me there was this sick party happening in Manhattan, and he said he could get us in." A French accented, blonde teen said this, leaning forward mischievously at a table full of teens.<p>

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><p><strong>Fran·cis Bonne·foy: noun \Fr-an-sis Bone-foy\<strong>

**Definition of Francis Bonnefoy**

**1: **A student at Brunswick School in his junior year and is 17 years old; excels in Cooking, Literature, French, and Art courses and is known around the school as a flirt and is openly bi-sexual.

**2: **A teenager who likes to party, drink, and occasionally indulges in drugs. Sleeps and hits on anything with a pulse.

**3:** Someone who lived in France until he was four before moving to America, but still insists on speaking in a French accent even though he isn't even fluent in the language.

**Also see: Manwhore, Pretentious, or Hopeless Romantic**

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><p>"I honestly don't see why you still bother with Gilbert. He's such an arse-hole." Another blonde said this, this time with a British accent, as he rolled his eyes and took a puff from his cigarette.<p>

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><p><strong>Ar<strong>**·thur Kirk·land: noun \Ar-ther Kerk-land\**

**Definition of Arthur Kirkland**

**1: **A student at Brunswick school in his junior year and is 17 years old; excels in English, Social Studies, Literature, and Math courses and is known around the school as a smart ass, rebel and openly gay.

**2: **A teenager who parties, drinks, smokes, and does drugs. Occasionally has drunken/sober one night stands, and hides his atheism from his parents. Is also known for having relationship issues.

**3: **A Brit who moved from the UK to America a couple years ago and often acts superior to Americans and their customs, culture, and English.

**Also see: Asshole, Prick, or Snob**

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><p>Francis and Arthur glared at each other before Arthur smirked and blows his smoke in the Frenchman's face. Francis coughs slightly, but before he can do anything back, is interrupted by a brunette, who is laughing at the scene.<p>

"Would you two cool it? Honestly! So… uhm, did Gil mention anything about Roderich being there?" The brunette blushed as she said this and twirled her long hair between her fingers.

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><p><strong>Eli<strong>**·****za****·****ve****·****ta Hé****·****der****·****vár**·**y: noun \El-liz-ah-vey-ta Heh-duhr-vah-ree\**

**Definition of Elizaveta Hé**der****váry****

**1:** A student at Greenwich Academy in her senior year and is 17; excels in Art, Social Studies, Cooking, and Science courses, and is known around school as an anime/yaoi geek, a tomboy, and a gay rights activist.

**2: **A teenager who parties as long as her friends are with her, and tries not to drink or do drugs too much, and usually dates older guys.

**3: **Someone who is strangely proud of her Hungarian heritage, and spends too much of her free time looking at and reading things involving yaoi.

**Also see: Yaoi Fangirl, Pervert, or Manly**

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><p>Francis smirked knowingly at Elizaveta and laughed, making her playfully glare at him.<p>

"He didn't mention Roderich, but I assume he'll be there. If he's not, you can always hook up with Gil!" Smirking mischievously, Francis swallowed any laughter that bubbled inside him as Elizaveta blushed deep scarlet and intensified her glare as she wacked his head.

"Shut up! You're making me sound like a slut, you whore!" Elizaveta huffed and crossed her arms, when she noticed Francis whining about his hair as he rubbed his head, she smiled and giggled, muttering under her breath, "Pansy." Arthur, who had heard her smirked and chuckled, throwing her an approving look.

"Ow, why are you so mean to me, Eliz?" Francis whined, giving the said girl puppy dog eyes. Rolling her eyes, Elizaveta looked away.

"Ve~ Eliz isn't mean, Francis! She's the nicest lady I know!" Looking over to a scrawny Italian boy with brown hair and brown eyes, with the most innocent of expressions on his face, Elizaveta smiled.

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><p><strong>Feli<strong>**·cia·no Var·gas: noun \Fell-i-see-ah-no Var-gass\**

**Definition of Feliciano Vargas**

**1:** An exchange student at Brunswick School in his sophomore year and is 16. Excels in Cooking, Art, and Math courses, is known around school as a lovable idiot, a harmless flirt, unbelievably cute, and for following the German exchange student around like a puppy dog.

**2: **A teenager who loves fine wine, Italian cuisine, parties with dancing, friends, and the German exchange student.

**3: **An Italian who is able to march to the beat of his own drum and stand out, yet at the same time can be classified as a follower or sheep. Someone who can't read the atmosphere. (Because there are no copies left at the library; but they're on the waiting list for it.)

**Also see: Oblivious, Weak, or Overly Friendly**

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><p>"Feli, you're so sweet! Never let this French bastard corrupt you." Elizaveta, who acted as the Italian boy's mother half the time, hugged Feliciano tightly. Feliciano beamed a bright smile and laughed.<p>

"_Excusez-moi? _If anyone is going to corrupt him, it's going to be Arthur!" Francis exclaimed, scandalized. Arthur rolled his eyes and took another drag.

"Fuck off, Frog… and stop pretending you know French. You're only in French II for Christ sakes." Arthur grumbled begrudgingly. Francis scoffed and pouted.

"Shut up! Can we please get back on topic? Big party. Saturday night. Manhattan! Who's in?" Francis looked around the table expectantly, an eyebrow raised in temptation. When no one responded he sighed.

"Come on! If we leave at 6:30, depending on how bad traffic is, we'll be in New York by 8:00, maybe earlier, giving us plenty of time to meet up with Gil and party!" Francis said, hoping to encourage his friends to join him. Elizaveta, who looked tempted to join, spoke up, looking hopeful.

"Would we be crashing at Roderich and Gil's place?" Francis grinned.

"Probably. It depends how late we stay out, and whether anyone is sober by the end of the night."

Elizaveta matched Francis' grin and nodded eagerly.

"Alright, I'm in!" Francis' face lit up as he and Elizaveta high fived.

"Francis! What would I tell my host family?" Feliciano asked, worried even though the situation wasn't very… worrisome. Then again, the Italian was always very flighty in his moods and tended to overreact.

"Yeah, my dad's not gonna let me just go to New York for a hard core party." Elizaveta voiced, agreeing with Feliciano's problem. Francis smiled, already having everything planned out.

"My parents are out of town this weekend. Tell them you'll be over at my house. So?" Francis asked, again his eyebrows raised in temptation and expectation. Elizaveta grinned, and Feliciano smiled and clapped his hands, nodded vigorously.

"Perfect. What about you Arthur? Up for a party tomorrow night?" Francis asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes. Lolling his head over in Francis' direction he blew out the smoke from his lips.

"I would, but I've got church tomorrow morning." As he said this, he sounded annoyed and amused at the same time. Taking in a last drag from his cigarette, Arthur threw it on the ground and crushed it with his converse clad foot. Francis and Elziaveta laughed.

"Your parents are still making you go to church? Seriously Artie, just tell 'em you're an atheist." Elizaveta said, shaking her head at him like a scolding mother. Francis grinned as Arthur scoffed humorously.

"Please… my parents just finally came to terms and accepted with the fact that I'm gay. If I add that I'm also an Atheist, their good Christian minds may explode. Besides, they only make me go twice a month, so it's not that bad." Arthur said his tone humorous and snarky. Francis smirked.

"Ah, well have fun with that. While you're going to bed early, we'll be hitting it up in New York!" As Francis said this, Arthur wondered if he could be anymore snide.

"Ve~ So I guess it'll just be us three! Si?" Feliciano asked, excited as he practically bounced in his seat. Before anyone could answer, an ashen haired blonde with shy blue eyes hidden under glasses, finally spoke up.

"Uhm, well, I still haven't said if I'm going or not."

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><p><strong>Mat·thew Wil·liams: noun \Math-eew Will-yums\<strong>

**Definition of Matthew Williams**

**1:** A student at Brunswick School in his freshman year and is 15 years old. Excels in Math, Science, and Literature courses, and isn't known for anything in school, except for maybe being invisible.

**2: **A shy teenager who is often overlooked or not noticed, who likes quiet nights at home, reading, pancakes, and anything Canadian; someone who has unrequited feelings for Francis Bonnefoy.

**3: **Someone born in Canada and spends most summers and holidays there, and plans to move there as soon as possible, hoping to start a new and be noticed.

**Also see: Cellophane, Doormat, or Introvert**

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><p>All four heads looked over towards Matthew, a bit surprised to see him.<p>

"Mattie, how long have you been there?" Elizaveta asked, a bit confused, but also happy to see the arrival of their friend. Matthew sighed and looked down.

"I've been here the whole time. I walked with you guys here from school." Matthew blushed nervously because of the attention that was currently being put on him, but then shook it off knowing that the attention would be gone in a moment.

"Sorry Matthew, I guess we were too wrapped up in our conversation to notice you. Sorry." Arthur said awkwardly. He hated it when he forgot about Matthew. The freshman was one of his closest friends. It made him feel like a dick.

"Ve~ Sorry for not seeing you, Mattie! Are you coming to the party?" Feliciano asked happily too oblivious to notice the awkward atmosphere. Elizaveta shook her head and reminded herself to talk to Feliciano about this later.

"Uhm, no thanks." Matthew said shyly, glancing at Francis and blushing when he saw that older teen had his eyebrow cocked.

"Oh come on, _Mathieu!_ You must come! You almost never come to parties with us." Francis said, putting a pout on his lips. Matthew's blushed increased and his heart skipped a couple beats. Looking away in an attempt to conceal his blush, Matthew shrugged.

"M-maybe… I'll think about it."

The five teens continued to talk, eventually leaving their table, which had been at a local café's outdoor seating area, and walked down the main street, where most of Greenwich's shops, restaurants, businesses were located. It was a nice place for tourists, or for locals to hang out.

As they walked, they eventually stopped in front of some store and stood under the awning as Feliciano pointed some sort of gift he wanted to get the German exchange student, Ludwig, for his birthday through the window. Francis, Arthur, and Matthew leaned against the store in the shade provided from the awning and waited.

While they waited, Francis began people watching. After awhile he noticed something peculiar.

"Hey, _Mathieu, _that guy over there with the duffle bag, looks just like you." Francis said entertained as he pointed across the street to a young teen, probably 15 or so, with light ashen hair and blue eyes almost identical to Matthew. He even had glasses. The look–a–like was currently talking to some middle aged woman, holding some sort of map, probably getting directions.

Both Matthew and Arthur instantly looked up and followed to where Francis was pointing. Arthur instantly looked amused, while Matthew looked perplexed.

"Looks like you've spotted Matthew's doppelganger, Francis."

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><p><strong>Dop·pel·gang·er: noun \Dahp-il-gang-er\<strong>

**Definition of Doppleganger**

**1: **A ghostly counterpart of someone, or a tangible double of someone in fiction.

**2: **A theme used in the television _Twin Peaks,_ and_ How I Met Your Mother. _Seen in various forms of literature, such as _Twelfth Night, A Tale of Two Cities, _and _William Wilson_

**3: **Not to be confused with the Doppler Shift or Radar… idiot.

**Also see: Alter Ego, Evil Twins, or Body Doubles**

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><p>"Yes, but I think he's a bit more… muscular and his features are a bit masculine, despite his boyish looks!" Francis laughed and wriggled his eyebrows, obviously finding the young boy attractive. Arthur rolled his eyes, but he did have to agree with Francis. This boy was very attractive and handsome, while Matthew, who was still attractive, was more… cute.<p>

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><p><strong>Cute: adjective \Que-t\<strong>

**Definition of CUTE**

**1: **Matthew Williams

**2: **Panda bears, woodland creatures, puppies and kittens

**3: **Chibis, My Little Pony, and short people

**Also see: Feliciano Vargas, Peter Kirkland, Kiku Honda, and Yao Wang**

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><p>"That guy… he looks familiar. Like I've seen before…" Matthew said bemusedly. Francis smirked.<p>

"Of course he looks familiar! You see every time you look in a mirror!" Francis teased. Arthur chuckled, but Matthew still looked perplexed. By then both Feliciano and Elizaveta were following their friends' gazes.

"Ve~ Mattie! You never told me you had a twin!" Feliciano commented excitedly, tugging on Matthew's arm. Elizaveta clapped her hands excitedly and dug into her purse, searching for a camera.

"This is so exciting, Matthew! Go see if you can get a picture with him! Aaww twincest, here I come! You two could be like a real life Hikaru and Kaoru!" Finding her camera, the brunette was already holding it up and zooming in on Matthew's doppelganger. Matthew looked at her pale faced and shivered, before looking at Feliciano.

"Uhm no… That guy isn't my twin, Feli. I don't even know who he is. But I still think I've seen him somewhere." Matthew said this almost as if it were a conspiracy.

"God, would I like to wake up to him in the morning!" Francis said to himself, tilting his head as he stared at the strange boy's ass, looking him up and down with hungry eyes. Matthew glanced at Francis nervously, a sad and disappointed look in his eyes.

'_I look just like that guy and he isn't attracted to me at all…'_ Matthew thought, beating himself up mentally for liking someone like Francis. No one noticed Matthew doing this.

Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes.

"You're such a manwhore." Arthur commented, even though he was doing the same thing, checking out the young teen from across the street. Francis noticed and smirked, but didn't say anything. Meanwhile Elizaveta kept trying to snap a picture with both Matthew and the look-a-like in that same frame, but she kept failing miserably. Thank goodness for photoshop.

"Ah… he's leaving… Can we follow him?" Francis whined when he saw the middle aged woman give the handsome stranger directions and pointing him in the right direction. The boy smiled and thanked her, walking down the street away from the group of teens and vanishing around a corner. Arthur rolled his eyes and smacked Francis on the head.

"Fucking frog… We're not gonna stalk the boy. Can we please go now?" Arthur asked agitatedly, not wanting to linger anymore. The rest agreed and the group finally left.

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><p>When Matthew finally arrived home, after having agreed to try to go to the party with Francis, Feliciano, and Elizaveta, he was excited to just relax, do his homework and have a quiet night in. Maybe he'd watch some TV with his parents.<p>

"Mom, Dad! I'm home!" He called out, hoping it was loud enough. He was never very good at raising his voice. When no reply came, he assumed he was once again too quiet, and decided to check their kitchen first, since that was usually where his parents could be found at this time of day, cooking dinner together after both of them got off work. This was at the same time, since they were both lawyers at the same firm.

As he neared the kitchen, he wasn't able to smell anything cooking, but he could hear voices. Three of them; which was odd since they rarely had company over.

"Mom? Dad?" He called out again, hesitantly sneaking his head through the swinging door. What he saw was the last thing he ever expected to see.

It was his parents, sitting at the counter drinking coffee and talking to his doppelganger.

Matthew's eyes widened and his face paled as he fully entered the kitchen, making his presence known. His father froze, and the doppelganger smiled in a nervous and friendly manner, while his mother stood from her seat and approached Matthew, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and bringing him closer to the counter.

"Matthew… do you remember him? This is your cousin, Alfred."

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><p><strong>Well this was certainly longer than the prologue, yes? What do you guys think of the format, with the definitions? I like em! Also, can I just say that Arthur is soooo sexy in this story! Ugh! I love it when he's all bad ass, rebel, punk! But smoking is bad! Anyway, I don't mean to bash Christians. I didn't think it sounded that way. I mean, Arthur is going to have a bittersweet relationship with them because of his homosexuality and the fact that they're VERY Christian. But they are accepting of his gayness. It just took them awhile to fully understand and accept it. Sorry if the definitions were annoying. I liked them! I know I screwed up on the pronunciation parts! Have mercy on me! Lol. I hope you guys like the characterizations! I was trying to make them flawed, but likeable. I hope I succeeded! C: I hope this chapter wasn't disappointing!<strong>


	3. Definition of Luxury

**Chapter Two: Definition of Luxury**

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><p>In my family, we never really had any luxuries. Everything we had was either used or borrowed or made by us.<p>

I've never owned anything new, or had my own room.

Every article of clothing (underwear included) was hand-me-down from brother to brother to brother to brother to brother to me to brother to brother to brother. Every room in our house was shared, at least four of us kids to a room basically.

My dad said it was good to live like this, that it built character. I thought it was because he was cheap. Because I knew most families, even the ones who lived like us, was able to afford new underwear at least!

I never understood what he (my dad) meant by it being good and I didn't see why never having something all my own was good either… I just wanted a new, clean, unused pair of underwear.

But according to my father, that was selfish. He said I'd understand one day when I had my own family. I highly doubt I ever will though.

If I ever have kids, I'll never, EVER make them wear hand-me-down underwear.

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><p><strong>Cous·in: noun \cuz-inn\<strong>

**Definition of Cousin**

**1:** The child of an uncle or aunt. A relative descended from one's grandparent or more remote ancestor by two or more steps and in a different line.

**2: **A slang word for friend.

**3: **Someone you met once when you were barely five, but then randomly shows up one day in your kitchen and is a more attractive version of you.

**Also see: Kinsman, Relative, or Cuzz**

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><p>Matthew never really liked labeling, judging, or making assumptions or disliking things of people he hardly knew; however, he decided right away, to make an exception for his estranged cousin, Alfred.<p>

Immediately after meeting each other for the first time in ten years, Alfred failed to read the atmosphere, which had been awkward, tense, and shocked. Instead of taking things slow, and giving Matthew time to adjust and take in the news, Alfred walked up, getting over his nervousness in seconds, gave his a huge 100 watt grin and hugged him, invading his boundaries and personal space instantly. Telling Matthew how cool it was to see him again, that he missed him, and how he couldn't wait to be friends.

Matthew, in an attempt to be polite, smile and nodded, and even though he could even remember that one visit all those years ago that Alfred spoke of, told his cousin it was good to see him again as well.

That had been two hours ago, and still, neither his parents nor Alfred had explained why he was here and not in Utah with his family. When he asked, Alfred just laughed and said he wanted to get to know his extended family, and his parents just deflected the question and changed the subject.

At the moment, his father was doing the dishes in the kitchen, they had finally had dinner, and his mother was helping Alfred unpack and get settled in the guest room. Though Alfred didn't have much clothes with him, Matthew had a feeling that he would be staying for longer than a visit.

In an attempt to test his ninja spy skills, Matthew stealthily made his way up the stairs and skulked his way towards the guest room. Luckily the door was open, so as he approached, Matthew made sure to keep his body close to the wall the door was on, so he wouldn't be detected by his mother or Alfred. As he leaned in close, he could hear his mother talking.

"Your clothes are so old and worn, Alfred. Don't you have anything new?"

"Nah, there all hand-me downs."

It was silent for a brief a moment; Matthew could here the ruffling of fabric and guessed his mother was still rifling and expecting Alfred's clothing, probably giving each article of clothing a distasteful look.

"Well this simply won't do…"

The ruffling stopped and he heard his mother take in a quick short, breath-like gasp. Something she always did when she had an idea.

"I know! Tomorrow I have the whole day off, how about I take you and Matthew clothes shopping?"

"That's ok, Aunt Meryl, really, I don't mind my clothes. There's no need for the trouble. Thanks though!"

Though he couldn't see them, Matthew could just picture the genuine and happy grin on his cousin's face and his mother smiling, shaking her head, and laughing casually.

"No, I insist, Alfred! It's no trouble at all! Besides, Matthew's wardrobe has been needing a sprucing for some time now. I won't take no for an answer!"

Matthew sighed. Looks like his plan to go to the party probably wouldn't happen. It's not like it mattered anyway… Francis would've most likely ignored or forgotten him the whole time anyway…

As Matthew lost himself in thoughts of Francis, he didn't notice that his mother and Alfred stopped talking. He also didn't hear the footsteps coming towards him from inside the room.

"Hey! Mattie! What're you doing done there?" Matthew jumped, falling out of his crouched position and landing on his back. Matthew moaned in pain and annoyance and sat up, looking at Alfred, who had that same 100 watt grin on his face with a curious look.

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><p><strong>Al<strong>**·fred Jones: noun \Al-fr-ed Joh-nz\**

**Definition of Alfred Jones**

**1: **A teenage boy who is 15 years old and has never been to a public school, save for one year of pre-school, and a few months of kindergarten. A home schooled student who excels in Science, Math, and P.E courses, and is considered by his siblings to be a loudmouth, oblivious, hyper-active, comedian of the family.

**2:** A teenager who has lived a sheltered life, with only one friend outside of his family.

**3: **Someone who runs away from home to find his estranged, extended family, without much thought or plan, and if it wasn't for dumb-luck, probably would've easily been kidnapped, raped, and killed because of his instinct to instantly trust people.

**Also see: Airhead, Tactless, or Socially Retarded**

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><p>"N-nothing, just passing by…" Matthew explained lamely, his face went dark crimson when his mother appeared behind Alfred with a peculiar look on her face.<p>

"Matthew, what are doing on the floor?"

Matthew opened his mouth to answer.

"Ah, it doesn't matter. So! Matthew, I'm taking Alfred shopping tomorrow for some new clothes, and I think it'd be splendid of you to join us! That way you and Alfred can get to know each other!" His mother's voice was eerily chipper as she said this. Matthew eyed her suspiciously, on a count of the fact that his mother, though a sweet and happy woman, was generally not this perky or… chipper. She was nervous. But about what exactly? Alfred, perhaps?

Matthew shook his thoughts from his head and stood up.

"Ugh… yeah, sure…" Matthew said quietly. His mother smile and patted his shoulder, saying that she was gonna go speak to his father and help him with the dishes, leaving Matthew with Alfred.

"So... are you all un-packed?" Matthew asked, trying to sound friendly, but his voice came out sounding strange and forced. Matthew looked at Alfred cautiously and was thankful that he didn't notice.

"Yeah, almost!" Alfred answered, sounding way to friendly and excited about the boring small-talk. Matthew wondered if Alfred was naturally this peppy and friendly, or if he was like Matthew's mom, and acted like it when nervous.

"Good… good. That's… good." Matthew mumbled. Alfred was about to say something else, but Matthew, in an attempt to get away from his cheery cousin, cleared his throat.

"Well, I should get started on my homework… I'll see you tomorrow. Night…" Matthew spoke very softly and shuffled away from Alfred quickly, disappearing into his room, thankful to finally find some peace and to get away.

Matthew knew he was being unfair to Alfred, and that he should give his cousin a chance, but there was something about him that struck Matthew the wrong way. Perhaps it was his overly friendliness, and lack of respect for boundaries, and his inability to read the atmosphere. Even though his friend Feliciano was just like this, Matthew didn't mind these traits in the Italian. Maybe it was the accent.

But no, Matthew knew what it was that he didn't like about Alfred. It was his cousin's ability to command a room, to gain and keep people's attention, his lively, bright, and attracting personality. Alfred was able to do it with his friends, (namely Francis) and he was also able to easily get Matthew's parents' attention, his mother seemed to be reaching for the stars, in hopes of creating a relationship with him.

He sighed. He really didn't like to pass judgment on people he just met, but Matthew couldn't help but think that Alfred was going to be an obnoxious, cocky, attention whore.

Matthew hoped he was wrong.

* * *

><p>Shopping was definitely quite an experience that Saturday. It may have been because Matthew's mother, Meryl, was still nervous, and therefore too perky, as she eagerly took article after article of clothing off the racks, and piled them into Alfred's arms, burying the poor boy in a mountain of clothes. It may have been because Matthew hated clothes shopping because he hated the way the clothing fit his awkward, too skinny, too lanky body; so he was in a bit of a peeved mood.<p>

But it also may have been because of the fact that this was practically the first time Alfred ever went shopping for things of want and pleasure, instead for need. When they had walked into the Department store, Alfred had looked around so mesmerized and happy, as if he were on vacation in a foreign place or exotic location.

Meryl had found it endearing, but Matthew found it weird.

* * *

><p><strong>Weird: adjective \wird\<strong>

**Definition of Weird**

**1:**Of, relating to, or caused by witchcraft or the supernatural, or magical.

**2:** Peculiar or odd behavior in a person, or something strange and out of the norm.

**3: **A word to describe something strange, or as an explanation for an idiot's actions. Ex. "Oh, don't mind him licking that bee hive. He's just weird, is all."

**Also see: Kooky, Queer, Alfred Jones**

* * *

><p>As they shopped, Alfred seemed persistent on not getting anything, saying he didn't need any new clothes, but Meryl would insist on buying him whatever he tried on that he looked good in. Which was basically everything, Matthew thought enviously.<p>

"Really, Aunt Meryl, you've gotten me too much already! It must cost a fortune!" Alfred spoke, a laugh in his voice as he gestured towards the many bags of clothes. Matthew's mother tutted, and shook her head.

"Alfred, don't worry, everything we've bought has been on sale. Besides, you need clothes!" She then ushered Alfred off to the changing rooms to try on some slacks and dress shirts. When he was out of sight, Matthew approached his mother, his steps faltering a bit when he got close enough.

"Uhm… Mom?" She looked over and smiled at him warmly.

"Did you find anymore clothes, dear?" Matthew nodded and held up a couple sweaters.

"Yeah, but uh… I wanted to ask you something… about Alfred." Matthew's voice was quieter than usual as he said this; he hesitantly looked up at his mother for approval, and continued when she nodded.

"Well… it's just… why is… Alfred… why is he here? How long is even staying?" There was a pause before his mother sighed, looked over to make sure Alfred wasn't around, and returned her gaze to her son.

"I know you must be very confused, but you need to understand that Alfred's… situation is complicated." Matthew looked at his mother expectantly, signaling her to continue.

"Alfred is going to be staying with us for awhile… He'll be enrolled in school with you by next week."

Matthew's eyes widened and he looked around to see if Alfred had yet to come back from the dressing rooms. He hadn't, so Matthew looked back at his mother in disbelief.

"What? Why? Doesn't he need to go home?" Matthew wasn't sure what to think of this.

"Look… don't let Alfred know you know… and don't let anyone know this either. Not any of your friends or teachers, no one. But… Alfred has run away from his home."

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there it was! Chapter 2! What'd ya think? Sorry if it' a piece of shit! I was pretty tired I wrote it an editted it. So if you guys want me to redo it, I will. Sorry it took longer, but school is nearing and I've been busy. I'll try to update again by the end of next week. If I don't, SORRY! DX Also, sorry for the short notes if you're one of those who like my longer ones!<strong>

**You're all Prussia! And thanks so much for all the reviews! Amzazing! Really! Sorry if I haen't replied to em yet. Like I said, I've been busy! **


	4. Definition of Envy

**Well here I am again! I hope the wait wasn't too long! But, at least I have a longer chapter! 2,500 words! YAY!**

**Ok, so there's a definition that may come across as offensive, but it's only a comedic definition. It's NOT TRUE! So please don't flame. But if many people say it's too offensive, I'll consider re-doing that one definition, even though I think it's harmlessly funny, I know others won't view it the same as me. So sorry in advance if you don't like it.**

**Hope I edited this enough!**

**Also, sorry if I have yet to reply to your review! I've been busy with school. Ugh, I hate it! SUMMER Y U NO STAY!**

**Once again, the first person narrative is Alfred. Anyone figure out the issue yet? It'll probably be revealed soon! So keep guessing! There's still time! If you want to that is! Lol**

**Read and please enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Definition of Envy<strong>

* * *

><p>When you live in family like mine, you learn right away that jealousy is never a good color or route to go.<p>

Growing up, I had a lot of siblings, and when I was young, sibling rivalry often got in the way. It was always because one of us was jealous of something about the other. Like if someone got a new toy or a dollar for their birthday or if someone was better at doing something than the others. Like drawing, writing, singing, running, whatever.

But as we got older, our dad and the church taught us that we were to be equals, to treat each other kindly, and not to be envious.

It made living a lot easier. It's just not worth anyone's time to be jealous or envious of someone else's good looks or smarts or talents or possessions.

But people can't always take the righteous path, and even me and my siblings occasionally succumbed to envy even when we knew it was wrong and a waste of time.

* * *

><p>"… Lord, we ask you to guide and watch us this following week, keeping us in your heart as we do for you."<p>

Arthur resisted the urge to yawn as he looked over the congregation of his church around him. All of them with their eyes closed and heads bowed as they listened to the pastor at the front, saying the closing prayer.

* * *

><p><strong>Church: noun \cher-ch\<strong>

**Definition of Church**

**1: **A building of worship and prayer for Christians

**2: **A place where false hopes and lies make up the foundations of its belief system.

**3:** Places for people who cannot think for themselves' go to be told what their values and beliefs should be.

**Also see: Cathedral, Temple, or Cult**

* * *

><p>"Lord, keep us safe from temptation and help us make the right choices, help us keep faith in you, ourselves, and each other. In your name, the Lord, we pray. Amen."<p>

The pastor looked up as well as they rest of the congregation, in unison they spoke,

"Amen."

And then again, not a second later did the congregation bow their heads again. As Arthur watched them, refraining from rolling his eyes, feeling a soft jab in his side he looked over to see his younger brother, Peter, glaring at him, signaling him to bow hi head.

Arthur glared, but bowed his head, but when peter turned away and closed his eyes, Arthur raised his head and leaned lazily back in the pew, droning out the sound of praying.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…"

When the church service finally finished, Arthur took Peter out of the chapel as their parents prattled on with other couples. As they walked, Arthur noticed Peter holding a poorly colored picture of Noah and his ark, probably done in his Sunday school class.

As the brother's reached their parent's minivan, Arthur took out his phone to check the time. Ugh, it was 10:05. Why did his parents insist on dragging him to church so early in the morning?

"Do you want to see my drawing?"

* * *

><p><strong>Pe<strong>**·ter Kirk·land: noun \Pea-terr Kurk-land\**

**Definition of Peter Kirkland**

**1: **A student at Brunswick School in the fifth grade, who is 10 years old; excels in Math, English, and History courses. He is known around his grade as an ambitious teacher's pet.

**2: **A young boy who hates his older, jerk brother, but also craves for validation and recognition from him.

**3: **Someone who was born in England, but raised in America, but still makes himself talk in an accent because he secretly wants to sound like his older brother.

**Also see: Cute, Kiss Ass, or Brown Noser**

* * *

><p>Arthur looked out of the corner of his eye to see Peter holding up his drawing to him. A bored but expectant look on his face. Arthur looked away and turned his attention to his cell phone.<p>

"No."

Peter's face fumed, as he glared at Arthur, hugging his drawing to his chest.

"You big jerk!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, not caring to reply as he spotted his parents coming up. When his father unlocked the car, he immediately climbed in. Peter begrudgingly followed, taking a seat by his brother.

"What a nice sermon." His mother commented as they pulled out of the church.

"Yes, it was. Pastor Dave really knows how to speak to a room."

His father and mother continued to talk about the service while Peter lazily stared out the window. Arthur yawned and brought his phone out again, finding a text from Matthew.

**Matthew:**

**Hey, are you busy?**

**Arthur:**

**No. Why?**

"Peter, did you have fun in Sunday school?" Arthur looked up to see his mother looking back at them as he waited for Matthew to reply. Peter shrugged and grumbled.

"It was fine…"

"Did you boys enjoy the service?" Arthur sighed; his mother was always trying to start conversations and discussions with him and his brother. It wouldn't be so bad, but his mother wasn't very skilled in actual conversation. She was great at small talk, but actually talking? It was just painful sometimes.

Arthur mimicked his younger brother.

"It was fine…"

Peter glared at Arthur.

"That's good." Their mother was about to turn back in her seat, but Peter leaned forward in his seat, fighting against the seat belt.

"But Arthur wasn't even paying attention!"

Arthur groaned and looked away, sinking into his seat. Ugh, he was in for it now. He was going to kill Peter later.

His mother looked back at him with a disapproving look, while his father looked sternly at Peter through the rearview mirror.

"Is this true, Arthur?" Before he could answer, Peter jumped forward to speak again. Little twat, Arthur thought.

"Yes! He didn't join in for the Lord's prayer!"

"Peter, no one likes a tattle. Arthur, pay attention next time or we'll make you come with us to church every Sunday." And with that, his father settled the growing argument in his gruff voice. Peter huffed and crossed his arms, pouting his lips. Their mother simply turned back in her seat and patted her husband's hand gently. Arthur rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone to find another message form Matthew.

**Matthew:**

**Can I come over to your house? Or could we meet somewhere? I don't want to be home right now.**

"Mom, Dad? Can Matthew come over when we get home?" Arthur asked, his thumbs hovering over the keypad on his phone, ready to type a reply.

"Have you finished your homework?" His father asked. Arthur nodded. Of course he did. It's not like he had plans Saturday night. He had church in the morning.

"Yes."

"Then I don't see why not…" His mother said softly, smiling back at him. Arthur said a quick thanks, his thumbs making quick work of his reply.

**Arthur:**

**Yeah, I'm almost home now. Head over any time.**

* * *

><p>"I thought you'd still be asleep or in New York at Roderich's." Arthur said shutting the poster clad door to his bedroom behind him. Matthew had taken a seat at his desk chair.<p>

"I couldn't go…" Matthew mumbled. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell anyone about Alfred. He knew if he could tell someone, it'd be Arthur, but he was afraid that if his friends knew of Alfred's existence and met him, he'd steal all their attention. Just like Alfred stole his parent's attention.

"Oh, did something come up or something?" Arthur sat on his bed, leaning over to his iPod home; he pushed play and let the songs play on shuffle. Matthew scoffed.

"Yeah… something came up."

Sensing that Matthew probably didn't want to talk about whatever 'came up,' Arthur searched his mind for something to say. He wished he had his mother's gift for small talk.

Fortunately, Matthew began talking before Arthur had to think of anything to talk about.

"I'm your friend, right? You wouldn't just dump me for someone who's like… a hotter, more charming version of me?"

Arthur, taken aback by the younger teens question and sudden vulnerable expression, looked at him a bit surprised and confused.

"No, of course not. Why would ask that, Matthew?"

When he didn't answer, Arthur began to try to figure out what could've been bugging the boy himself. At first he couldn't recall anything, but then he remembered Friday afternoon when Francis had spotted that doppelganger.

"Is this because of Friday when Francis saw that lad that looked like you?" Arthur looked at Matthew, his prominent brow raised in question. Embarrassed, Matthew looked away and shrugged. Arthur sighed and gave his friend a lazy, half smile.

"Look, we're not going to choose some stranger we don't know over you. That's ridiculous, you're our friend." Arthur had tried his best to sound comforting, but winced when his tone came out as more matter-of-factly. Matthew looked at him skeptically.

"I-... I'm not an idiot. I saw the way you… you and… and Francis was checking that guy out…" Matthew practically choked as he forced himself to say Francis' name. Arthur let out a breath. Sometimes he forgot Matthew had a crush on Francis.

"Matthew… the frog may be a manwhore, but… he does appreciate and respect your friendship. He's loyal and he wouldn't throw you aside for a random person." Arthur assured, placing his hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew smiled slightly before his lips dropped again, and he looked away insecurely and sullenly.

"What if he were my cousin…" He mumbled quietly under his breath. Arthur barely understood what he said.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I thought all your cousins were in Canada?" Arthur retracted his hand and sat back in his bed, his quizzical gaze never leaving Matthew's face. Matthew looked at Arthur reluctantly.

"The cousins on my dad's side do. But on my mom's side I have a cousin here in America…" Matthew looked directly at Arthur with a 'guess who' look on his face. Arthur's eyes widened slightly.

"Are you talking about the look-a-like from Friday? He's your cousin?" Arthur blinked and opened his eyes wide, finding the new information hard to believe. Matthew nodded.

"His name is Alfred, and he's apparently staying with us for awhile. My parents are enrolling him in our school." Matthew explained begrudgingly.

"Is there something wrong with him? You don't seem to like him very much…" Arthur commented. Matthew shrugged.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright-"

"-And please don't tell anyone about Alfred. I don't want them to know… not yet." Arthur nodded, the 'them' being Francis, Elizaveta, and Feliciano. He understood why Matthew didn't want them to know. If Matthew introduced them to his cousin, they'd all probably become fascinated and engrossed with him. Especially Francis, he'd without a doubt be trying to get Matthew's cousin into bed by week two at the latest.

Arthur couldn't blame his friends though. He'd probably do the same thing. Which made him feel like shit since Matthew was his friend.

"I won't. I promise."

* * *

><p>When Alfred woke up this morning, he nearly had a panic attack. Still not used to being away from home, and his new situation and surroundings, Alfred forgot he had run away and thought he'd been kidnapped or that his family was missing or abandoned him, leaving him alone. But it was only for a moment, because he eventually remembered what he did.<p>

Stretching his limbs out around the surface of the bed felt odd. He'd never had his own room or a bed this big to himself. It was odd waking up in a peaceful, quiet, dim room that was all his own. Usually he was awakened by one of his younger brother's jumping on him to get up, or bright light coming in from the window because one of his brothers had ruined the shades and his father hadn't bothered replacing them yet.

Sitting up, he yawned and rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleepy eye crust from them. Blindly he moved his hand around the night stand and found his glasses, placing them on his nose. When he looked around the room he felt spoiled and guilty at all the bags of new clothes he had yet to put away. He'd never had, much less seen so many new things in one room for one person.

Alfred looked over to the clock on the nightstand. It was 10:32. Wow, he'd never slept this late either. Lethargically, he moved out of the bed, his limbs and back cracking when he stood.

Scratching his ass, he walked over to the small, personal bathroom, which would be only his, to take a shower. He felt like royalty.

His own new clothes, his own room, his own big bed, and his bathroom.

'_Just call me the Queen of Sheba!...Or well...the KING of Sheba!'_

* * *

><p><strong>Qu<strong>**·een****of She****·****ba: Historical figure \Qua-een uhf Shee-bah\**

**Definition of Queen of Sheba**

**1:** The monarch of the ancient kingdom of Sheba; she is referred Habeshan history, the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament, and the Qur'an.

**2: **Sheonly found and tested the great King Solomon's wisdom and was never married to him, duh!

**3:** A slang or expression used today, ex:

Person 1: I'm the human representation of Prussia, the country that no longer exists!

Person 2: And I'm the 'Queen of Sheba.'

**Also see: Balkis, Mareb, or Nicaule**

* * *

><p>When he had finished his shower, put on his NEW boxers and clothes, he went downstairs to the kitchen. As he neared the kitchen, he could smell pancakes cooking. When he entered he found his uncle at the stove, and his aunt Meryl at the table reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. Alfred laughed slightly at the reversed positions of the couple. If he were at home it would've been the other way around.<p>

"Good morning, Alfred! We heard you in the shower so I decided to make another batch of pancakes for you." His uncle said warmly. Alfred grinned and took a seat at the table.

"Thanks Uncle Heath! Do you guys make pancakes every morning?" His aunt shook her head as she lowered the news paper and laid it on the table.

"No only on Sundays. We're far too busy to do it for the rest of the week. Would you like a glass of milk, Alfred?" Before he could answer though, his aunt had already taken the carton out of the fridge and was pouring its contents into a glass from the cupboard. Alfred smiled.

"Yes, please. That'd be great, Aunt Meryl!" And not a second after he said that was a glass of cold milk placed in front of him, and his aunt returned to her seat at the table.

"So where's Matthew? Is he still asleep?" Alfred asked, taking a sip of his milk. He was excited at the possibility of spending more time with his cousin.

"No, you just missed him. He left about fifteen minutes ago to see a friend." His uncle explained this to him as he served Alfred a plate of hot, fluffy pancakes. Alfred could feel his mouth begin to water as he poured syrup and spread butter on the stacks.

"That's too bad; I was hoping to hang out with him… Thanks Uncle Heath," Alfred took a bite, "these are delicious!"

* * *

><p><strong>So, what did you guys think? Good, bad, offensive? What? I don't know… Anyway, thanks for reading! It means a lot! I hope you all still like it and are interested! Sorry if some of you are offended by the definition of Church. I only meant for it to be funny. Silly. Satirical or whatever. Anyway, thanks for reading my lovelies!<strong>

**You are all Prussia!**


	5. Definition of High School

**OH. MY. GOSH! I am back, after how long? Too long is the answer. I've been busy. Ever since I graduated high school and summer came, my part time job is now basically a full time job. Gotta save up for college. Anyway, there's other reasons why this is soooo late, but I don't wanna seem like I'm making up excuses. Anyway, I hope ya'll like this. Sorry for any bad grammar or spelling. You know me; I'm HORRIBLE at editing my own stuff.  
><strong>

**Also, be on the look out for a companion piece to 'Yoho, Alfred' written by Princess Camille Hitachiin  
><strong>

**She informed me that it'll be about Lovino and Antonio meeting and up until Alfred and Arthur walk the plank. Whatever she does with it, I'm sure it'll be fabulous.  
><strong>

**So please enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Definition of High School<br>**

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><p>Whenever I get nervous about something, especially when it's something I've never done before, I always think of that song from that old claymation Christmas special. You know the one about the origins of Santa Claus, and there was that song where Kris Kringle teaches the evil winter dude how to become good. He's all like, 'becoming good is just like learning to walk, dude! Just put one foot in front of the other!' Or something like that.<p>

It was one of the few movies my parents let us kids watch.

Anyway, the point is, whenever I'm nervous about something new, I think about that song, and I like to think that whatever I'm about to do is just like learning how to walk.

Most of the time though, it's not so simple. But it's still a nice thought.

* * *

><p>This school was so big, almost <em>too <em>big. He had no idea where he was going, he was just trying to keep up with his aunt's quick pace. She said she wanted to come with him to meet the principle and get him registered. Whatever the reason, Alfred was thankful he wasn't going through this alone.

This morning when he woke up he felt so nervous. He was literally shaking and he felt extremely nauseous. He still did. He tried to convince his aunt and uncle that he was too sick to go to his first day of school, but Matthew scoffed while his uncle insisted that he would be fine and that he was just feeling anxious.

"Aunt Meryl, w-wait up!" Alfred stammered, having trouble weaving through the many students. She looked back and gave an apologetic smile and slowed down.

"Sorry sweetie. I guess I'm just as nervous as you." She said, laughing nervously. Alfred smiled.

"It's ok."

The two continued their way through the crowded halls, eventually arriving at the administration office. He followed his aunt and shyly stood behind her as she approached a secretary's desk.

"Hey, June, is Mrs. Kline ready to see me?" The secretary nodded and began exchanging pleasantries with his aunt. Alfred tuned them out and looked around the office. There were two other secretaries there, busying themselves with work. He spotted a cushioned bench and took a seat, fiddling with the backpack his aunt had bought him, filled with new, un-used supplies. He looked down at his feet, clad in brand new, bright red converse that actually fit his feet, instead of pinching his toes, or being a size to big like his usual foot wear.

He never knew how nice it was to wear clothes and shoes that actually fit him.

"Alfred?" He looks up to meet his aunt's gaze.

"I'm going to speak to the principle first, so you just wait out here, alright?" He smiles and nods and watches as his aunt vanishes behind a door, into a room with people he didn't know. He knew they were probably going to talk about him. But what made him nervous was how much his aunt was going to reveal about him.

'_Oh man…'_ He thinks as he rests his head in his hands. He sits there for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few minutes when two people enter. One a middle aged man in a grey track suit, a whistle hanging around his neck and an angry expression on his face. Behind him was a teen, a few years older than Alfred.

He was wearing _really _tight pants, and he had black gunk around his green eyes, under his bushy eyebrows. He looked at the older boy bemused. He thought only girls wore makeup.

One of the secretaries looked up and sighed when she noticed the man and student.

"What did Arthur do this time, Keith?" She asked exasperated. The man grumbled.

"I found Kirkland smoking on school grounds, _again._" She sighs again and shakes her head.

"Again? Arthur, you're smarter than this." She scolds. The boy, Arthur, shrugs.

"I'll leave him hear. Send him into Kline." The man orders. The secretary rolls her eyes.

"I know the drill." With that the man left and the secretary gives Arthur a look and points over to the cushioned bench where Alfred sat.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill." Arthur says, in an almost mocking way. Alfred tried to hide his shock at the lack of respect this Arthur guy showed for the adults.

Arthur walks over and sits down on the other end of the bench, but Alfred can still smell the smoke on him. He subtly looks away to keep himself from smelling the scent. Arthur notices this and smirks. He turns his head to get a better look at Alfred, and that's when he recognizes him.

'_So… this is Matthew's cousin..' _

"Arthur Kirkland." He says, holding his hand out to Alfred, a smirk on his face. The younger teen looked over and smiled brightly, but Arthur could tell he made the boy a little uneasy.

"Hi, I'm Alfred Jones." He places his hand into Arthur and shakes. He pulls his hand away, only for Arthur to tighten his grip slightly to hold him there. Alfred's smile falters a bit.

"Uh.." He doesn't know what to say. Arthur leans in a bit closer.

"You have stunning eyes, Alfred. Has anyone ever told you that?" Arthur asks smoothly, his gaze penetrating Alfred's. Alfred's eyes widen a bit at the compliment and he blushes.

* * *

><p><strong>Stunn·ing: adjective \Stun-eeng\<strong>

**Definition of Stunning**

**1:** Of a strikingly attractive appearance

**2: **Causing or capable of causing emotional shock or loss of consciousness.

**3: **A word to use when trying to pick someone up or hit on them.

**Also see: Impressive, Astonishing, or Alfred Jones**

* * *

><p>"I… uh…" He can't get any words out, he's too flustered. Was this flirting? And more importantly, was this a GUY flirting with HIM?<p>

"Well if no one has, it's a shame. You're gorgeous." Arthur says, taking pleasure in Alfred's uncomfort.

"Arthur, play nice." They both look over to the same secretary Arthur had spoken to earlier. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed. So much for his fun, he thinks as he releases Alfred's hand and leans against the wall. Alfred looks at the woman and smiles at her, a silent thank you.

"So, you're new here, I assume?" Arthur asks after a few moments of silence. Alfred hesitantly looks over at Arthur, but the older boy isn't even looking at him. He's staring at his nails, picking away at the black polish on them.

"Yeah, I am. I just… moved here." Alfred said non to convincingly. He was a terrible liar. For some reason Arthur smirked, as if he knew something. Which he did, but Alfred didn't know that.

Before anything more could be said, the door to the principal's office opened, Alfred's aunt Meryl stood in the doorway and gestured for Alfred to come in. As Alfred stood, she noticed Arthur and smiled in a friendly manner.

"In trouble again, Arthur?" She says playfully. Arthur smirks.

"You know me, I can't be tamed." Meryl laughs and Alfred watches the exchange, bewildered. His aunt knew this strange guy? He chooses not to comment and enters the office. There at the desk sits a plump older woman, either late fifties or early sixties in a tasteful pant suit. A young, perky looking woman, probably in her thirties stood next to the desk, a pile a packets in her arms. Meryl closes the door and guides him to sit down in one of the chairs in front of the principal's desk, taking a seat next to him.

"Alfred, this is the principal, Mrs. Kline, and one of the schools counselors, Mrs. Gomez." She gestures to each of the women, who in turn smile kindly at him.

"Hi." He wishes he could turn on his charm but he's too nervous. He's also a little shaken from some guy trying to flirt with him and then the same guy acts all chummy with his aunt.

"It's nice to meet you, Alfred." There was a pause before Kline continued. "Your aunt has informed us of your… unique situation." He looks over at his aunt anxiously. Meryl smiles and squeezes his knee in comfort.

"Since we're unable to get a hold of any kind of past records or transcripts of your academic history, I've had Mrs. Gomez prepare some standardized tests. This way we can know what level you're at in each subject, and can put you in the right classes." Mrs. Kline's voice was stern, but had a warm quality that comforted Alfred, despite the fact that what she was saying, overwhelmed him greatly. He looked again at the packets in Mrs. Gomez's arms, figuring those were his tests.

"You should be able to have them finished by after lunch, if you start them at 8:30, then we can work out your schedule and show you around the school." Alfred nodded, and they continued to talk, talking about school rules and policies, and other things Alfred never had to worry about before.

And before he knew it, his aunt was hugging him goodbye and the guidance counselor was setting him up to take his tests in a conference room.

Today was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

><p>As Alfred finished each section of his tests, Mrs. Gomez would take them away to grade them. He was currently on his last section. It was English, probably his worst subject. He grumbled and finished it off, putting down his pencil and stretching out his limbs, grimacing at the cracks they made. He craned his neck and looked at the clock on the wall. 12:00 on the dot.<p>

The bubbly counselor came in again and smiled as she took the test.

"Good, you're done! Are you hungry? Because I can bring in a bag lunch for you while we correct your last section." Alfred smiled and nodded.

"That'd be awesome, thank you!" She smiled again, and left. Leaving him alone in the room.

He sighed and tapped his pencil on the table top boredly. His eyes felt so sore and his brain fried. Three and a half hours he'd spent taking tests. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the table. He just wants to curl up on that giant bed at home.

Just when he felt his mind relaxing, about to sleep, the door opened again and in came Mrs. Gomez with a brown bag and a carton of milk. She plopped the items down on the table, said something that Alfred didn't catch and left the room.

He fiddled through the bag and found a red apple, an egg salad sandwich and a bag of chips.

As he ate the food he thought about what it would be like to go to school with kids his age. He wondered if it would be like it was on the tv shows and movies he would watch with Toris as a kid.

Would there be a jock that was secretly sensitive and deep? Would there be a nerdy girl who was actually hot once you took off her glasses? What about the spoiled rich kid who wants nothing more than to be loved?

Was any of it real? Or was it just made up by Hollywood?

Before he could contemplate any longer, Gomez was back to escort him back to Kline's office. He nervously takes a seat and twiddles his thumbs.

"No need to be nervous, Alfred. You did very well. In fact, your math and science was through the roof. Very advanced for someone your age. So we wanna put you in the senior and junior level courses. Advanced pre calculus and physics. The rest of your courses, like English and social studies, will be at freshmen level, with the rest of your grade level. We've also put you in the freshman P.E and Health classes. And for your last period, you have a study hall. If you want we can change it to an extras curricular, but we recommend you keeping the study hall, to make things easier on you."

Not knowing what to say, Alfred smiled.

"Sounds great!"

* * *

><p>Arthur always found it amusing when Coach Keith Brookens found him smoking. The old fart would go red with angry, puff his cheeks, flare his nostrils, and act as if he were <em>actually <em>intimidating. Like he fucking cared if he got detention. Kline usually let him off with a warning, knowing he was a good student and didn't want to ruin his chances of going to college by dirtying his file.

He looked around the hall. It was his lunch period, so he was looking for Elizaveta or Francis or any of his friends to eat with. He spotted Matthew by his locker and walked over.

"Hey, Matthew. How has your day been? Any estranged cousins show up out of the blue?" Arthur asked, his voice playful and teasing. Matthew sighed.

"Haha, you're so funny, Arthur." Matthew said, deadpanned. Arthur smirked.

"I ran into your cousin this morning. You didn't mention that he was starting school this week." Matthew closed his locker.

"I know… I meant to, but… I just was hoping if I ignored the problem it would go away…" Matthew mumbled as the two began to walk towards the cafeteria.

"So, you met Alfred, huh? What'd you think of him?" Matthew asked. Arthur shrugged. He knew Matthew disliked his cousin. He told him so that day after church. After he revealed the mystery of his doppelganger, he proceeded to rant about how he thought his cousin was an idiotic, uncouth, tool. Well he was right about the uncouth part, but Arthur wasn't so sure about the other two.

"He was alright." He said, shrugging, deciding it best to not get into it. Matthew certainly would not wanna hear about how he flirted with his cousin and found it cute when the blue eyed boy had become flustered.

The shy boy eyed Arthur suspiciously.

"You think he's cute, don't you." Matthew asked, although it was more of an accusation than a question.

Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes.

"You know me so well." He said sarcastically. Matthew shook his head but smiled.

"I guess I can't blame you… Hell, maybe it's for the best." Matthew said. Arthur quirked a brow.

"How so?"

"Well, maybe if Francis sees that you're interested in Alfred, he'll back off and not make any moves." Matthew said hopefully. Arthur smiled, but couldn't help looking at Matthew skeptically.

"Yeah, maybe." He says, not wanting to crush his friends hope. Matthew sighed, knowing Arthur didn't agree.

"You're right. If it has four limbs and a heart beat, Francis will hit on it no matter who else is interested." He says glumly.

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><p><strong>So yeah. There it is! Alfred and Arthur finally meet! Awww! Tell me what you think! I love to hear your opinions and criticisms! Anyway, til next time, my dear! Although I don't know when that'll be… Hopefully soon! I also hope to update Real Life soon as well as post a new one shot. Sorry again for the wait, I feel awful!<strong>


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